Boundless
by sinemoras09
Summary: The paths they walk together. Kazuma/Bishamonten. Spoilers for chapter 23.


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1.

It rains the night after the massacre. Long streaks of rain, the staccato rhythm of precipitation on arched rooftops, the window of their room throws a patch of watery moonlight against the darkness of their room. She has been crying for hours now, and the darkness covers her body like a shroud.

Without looking, Kazuma can sense the depth and breadth of the objects hidden in the shadows: tatami mats and lacquered lamps, the loping arabesque of the backboard by Viina's bed. But he doesn't care about those things, not when Viina lies curled up on the futon underneath a blanket, feverish and whimpering in the nonsense patois of half-sleep. Her skin is damp, and long strands of hair stick to her face and forehead. Eyes closed, she turns her head, face squeezing into a painful grimace. She whimpers. Kazuma lays his hand over her eyes.

"Kazuma," Viina says. Her eyes crack open. Days' worth of accumulated crust stick her eyelashes together, and the rims of her eyes are red and puffy. "Kazuma, are you there?"

"I'm here," Kazuma says, and he kneels beside her, bowing his head but not before he feels her feebly reach for his hand, pulling him closer.

She settles her head against his lap. Hesitantly, Kazuma lifts a hand to stroke her hair, but stops just short of touching her; she burrows deeper, hugging him.

Slowly, Kazuma lets his hand fall on the back of Viina's head. Her hair is matted, and gently Kazuma begins to card his fingers through the tangled locks. Her eyelids flutter. Her lips part in a soft sigh.

A few moments pass, and Kazuma eases himself out from under Viina's head, gently laying her head back on the pillow before rising. The damp cloth he had been using to wipe the perspiration off her face needs fresh water, and so he picks up the basin beside the futon and pads quietly to the room next door.

"You must be enjoying this," someone says, and Kazuma looks up to see Nora smiling at him. "You're her lead shinki now. How easy that is, without all that competition."

"What do you want?" Kazuma says. In the next room, he can hear Viina moan, softly.

"I just wanted to see how you were faring," Nora says. "You seem quite well, though I'm not sure I can say the same for your master."

Kazuma's eyes widen. Quickly, he throws a glance back at Viina's room, where he can see the shape of her figure outlined by silvery moonlight. Nora laughs, softly.

"Poor, poor chouki," Nora says. "Only a nail with no way to protect her. I wonder what must that be like," Nora says, softly. "Being able to penetrate her whenever she has need?"

He shoves the cloth back into the basin and stands, turning his back toward her.

"I am grateful," Kazuma says, and his words are clipped. Harsh. "I am grateful that your master saved mine. I will honor my debt as I had promised. But I will not let you sully my master's name," Kazuma says. Nora looks at him and smiles.

"Be careful of the blight," Nora says, and her words drift through the silence like tendrils of milk in a clear vat of water. But before he can say anything Nora is gone.

xXx

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2.

They're running. Ayakashi give chase and are slowly closing in.

"Turn right!" Kazuma says. The nail shines as a beacon. "There's a clearing beyond the ridge. Head there!"

She lurches to the right, a hard turn that sends the Ayakashi crashing into the bush. Behind her, the Ayakashi slides to a stop and changes direction, and Viina scrambles, running faster and faster. The terrain dips and Viina is rocketing downhill, feet pounding and dirt mushrooming around her.

"Watch out!" Kazuma says, but it's too late, her foot catches a root and she slams to the ground.

"_Kazuma_!" Viina says, and the release throws him in front of her, just as the Ayakashi is closing in.

"A line!" Kazuma says, and the barrier he had so much trouble with before explodes with perfect precision. The Ayakashi screams, then retreats back from the light.

The barrier gleams. Iridescent, the light of the barrier shines like the shimmery surface of a slick of black oil, and Kazuma sags, panting. "Are you okay?" he asks, and Viina nods, shortly. He notices the drop of perspiration beading at her temple.

She is weak, and slowly Kazuma helps her to her feet. While the physical loss of all her shinki had all but drained Viina's life force, almost a century had passed, and she should already be recovered. Kazuma understands that her weakness is not because of what happened to the Ma clan: without proper shinki, Viina has been unable to grant wishes, and over the years she has slowly begun to lose believers. At any moment, she could wink out like the light of a dying star, or turn nova in the brightness of a soundless annihilation. He looks at the dorsum of his hand and at the name branded on his skin, and he forces himself to push forward.

"Bishamon-sama. I mean no disrespect. But I believe we may need more shinki," Kazuma says. Viina lifts her eyes.

"You're losing believers," Kazuma says. "You're weakened because people are forgetting. The wishes at your shrine have long been unanswered."

She doesn't say anything, but the windows of her eyes show every flicker of doubt, deep wells of uncertainty and unending grief.

"You are my shinki," Viina says.

"I am a nail," Kazuma says. "I cannot protect you."

"You drew a line," Viina says, and the smile she gives him makes his chest tight. "Kazuma I'm proud of you."

He feels it: the first warmth of an involuntary flush cracking along his cheeks. But he slowly shakes his head.

"My abilities as a shinki are limited," Kazuma says. "I can guide you, but what use is that when you cannot grant wishes or even protect yourself? A god without shinki can do nothing.

I don't want to lose you," Kazuma says. "I don't want you to disappear."

xXx

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They find their first spirit a few weeks after that conversation.

They're standing at the edge of a cliffs in the middle of the night. For once, the Near Shore is quiet, and the teardrop of moon hangs and casts a silent glow along the cliff's edge. Viina stands against the pale haze of moonlight, and for a moment, she looks every bit as the old god he knows she was.

"I don't know if I can do this," Viina says. And Kazuma steps beside her and takes her hand.

xXx

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3.

She's lounging in the bath again. Kazuma looks at his clipboard and at the growing stack of unanswered prayers piling up at her shrines, then sighs, tragically.

"Just exactly how long do you plan on taking your bath?" Kazuma says. Viina rolls her eyes and sinks further into the water. "Your wishes are piling up. The other shinki are eager to answer them."

"I'm taking a break, which isn't always easy when a certain someone insists on nagging me-"

"Viina, do you realize how long it's been in the Near Shore?" Kazuma says.

"-_Nagging me_ when I'm just trying to take a bath, and for god's sakes, Kazuma, I'm naked. Could you at least pretend to be a little bit more embarrassed, instead of just standing there with your stupid little clipboard?"

"Two years," Kazuma says. "Two years have passed in the Near Shore. And I've seen you naked plenty of times."

"So annoying," Viina says, but she steps out of the bath anyway, letting Kazuma drape her shoulders with a towel. "I'll have you know it's been ages since I've had a proper soak. Although I'm sure you'd bother me while I'm on the toilet, as well."

"Gods don't evacuate stool," Kazuma says. "And even if they did, we have a schedule to keep."

He hands her the clipboard, which Viina frowns at, then hands back to him, announcing he should figure out which wishes to grant first, before tossing off her towel and sinking back into the water.

xXx

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The one thing Viina never misses, however, is her nightly patrol.

"That child is in danger!" Viina says, and they all see it: the soul of a young girl surrounded by phantoms. The girl is crying. The phantoms are closing in.

"She's been blighted," Kazuma says. The earring shines. "I'm afraid it may be impossible to save her."

"We can't know until we try," Viina says, and she leaps out into the darkness, hair catching the wind like flags and Kuruha letting out a deafening roar.

But Kazuma knows the outcome even before it's finished, so when Viina looks at him, face bone-white and spattered with horror and blood, he knows it's his duty when he tells her, "Viina. You'll have to kill that child."

"We can still save her!" Viina says, but the child is no longer a child. Formless and shapeless, it rears up in front of them, a fully actualized Ayakashi, and Viina has no choice but to deliver the killing blow.

They return to the compound. Her shinkis stand uneasily behind her, watching as Viina walks in front of them. It's dark in the main hall, and their shadows cut across the light of the torches in great swaths of black.

"Bishamon-sama?" Tsuguha says, tentatively. Kuruha and Kinuha are quiet. Viina stops and turns around.

"I'm fine," Viina says, and she smiles. "We had to do what was necessary for that young girl. It's a shame, but sometimes these things can't be helped."

The other shinki seem visibly relieved. "We're glad to hear it, Bishamon-sama!" and Viina smiles again, heading to her room and closing the door.

"Bishamon-sama is so _cool_," Tsuguha says, a touch of admiration in her voice.

"Yes," Kuruha says, as Kazuma breaks away from them, footsteps quickening down the corridor. "The lady always acts in a way that's just."

He turns the corner, pushing open the door to Viina's room.

"Viina?" Kazuma says. In the bedroom, he finds Viina crying. Streaks of tears roll down her face as she mashes her fist against her eyes.

"I couldn't save her," Viina says, and Kazuma rushes toward her, pulling her close. "She was still human and I couldn't save her."

"Shh," Kazuma says, and she cries openly against his shoulder.

They stay like that for a long time, Kazuma and Viina, and as he rocks her close he feels how she curls into the spaces of his body and fists the short hairs at the nape of his neck, moonlight filtering through the half-open curtains and casting slivers of shadows in the grayscale of the room.

The next night, he finds her standing at the top of the tallest building in the center of the city, looking out into the dark and the busy grid of streetlights flickering below them. Solitary figure, eyes scanning the horizon, Viina is magnificent against the dark gusts of clouds forming behind her.

She fights. And the parabola of her sword makes a perfect arc through the air.

xXx

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4.

The illness takes its toll again, and Kazuma watches, heart in his throat, as Kugaha rubs a soothing balm on Viina's skin. No one is blighting her. Despite his disastrous attempt to root out the cause, he has found nothing - just unanswered questions and the stomach sick realization that one of her shinki has already died.

The treatment is done. Kugaha rises, slowly packing up his creams and medicinal herbs and wrapping his wares with a thick canvas cloth. "Will that be all, Bishamon-sama?" Kugaha says. Kazuma sees Viina nod, weakly.

"Thank you, Kugaha," Viina says. She smiles. "You've been a tremendous help."

Kugaha bows, then turns, leaving Kazuma to stand by the the door.

"We're alone," Viina says, and Kazuma steps forward, kneeling by her bedside. "Kazuma, will you help me?"

"What is it that you need?" Kazuma says, quietly. She lifts her eyes to the balm Kugaha had left on her dresser.

Wordlessly, Kazuma unscrews the balm and helps Viina sit upright in the bed, carefully moving her hair back from her neck and exposing the line of her bare shoulders. The salve is thick and oily, and Kazuma quietly smooths down the strap of her nightgown and spreads the balm over her skin.

"That feels good," Viina says, and she closes her eyes.

There is a warm silence. Kazuma starts by rubbing small circles at the nape of Viina's neck, pausing only to dip his fingers in the oily balm and reapplying more. He massages the nape of her neck, then follows the taut line of her shoulders and spine, carefully kneading out the knots of her muscles until his hands settle at her waist. He switches his attention then, moving to massage her arm in a soothing, stroking motion, before shifting again and massaging the palm of her hand.

The other strap to her nightgown slips off her shoulder, and for a moment Kazuma can see the soft mounds of her breasts peeking out from beneath the fabric. Quietly he readjusts the strap back on her shoulder, covering her.

This is the direction trust lies in: her trust in him, his devotion for her. The tortuous eddies between master and the one who serves. She shifts and the bedsheets rustle as she leans forward, resting her weight on his chest before laying her head on his lap. Kazuma lets his hand fall on the soft hair behind her ear and temple, which he strokes, tenderly.

Later, after the disaster with Yukine and Kugaha and the shock of his exile, Kazuma sits with his fists on his lap and dully explains to Kofuku his betrayal: how he had drawn a line between himself and his master, how she disguised her hurt but was unable to release him.

What can be said about the nature of grief? The shape of his emptiness, the knife in his heart? In the room next to his, Yukine is crying. He looks the same as Kazuma feels, and it takes all of Kazuma's strength not to break down, because he has already hurt her once, he does not need to blight her as well.

xXx

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5.

The diary idea is an interesting one, but Kazuma is surprised when Viina quietly knocks on the door and asks him why he is the only one who hasn't written in it, she was looking forward to reading what he'd have to say.

"Me?" Kazuma says. He's still injured, favoring his right side and propping himself up on the bed. "Viina, I wouldn't know what to write. You already know everything about me."

"That may be true, but I still like hearing it from you."

She sits next to him on the bed, smiling a little as Kazuma stares intently at the blank page, then leans against him. One bare foot bent beneath her, the other brushed up against Kazuma's leg. And he thinks to himself how he would be happy to stay forever like this, her head on his shoulder and the weight of her body resting against his. Because they've spanned centuries together, crossed a thousand worlds and a thousand barriers together. Because he's watched the whole of her life shape itself beside his.

"I think," Kazuma begins, and the curtains to Kazuma's room move slightly around the open window. "I think, if I have to write in this, it's only fair that you need to write in this as well."

"I see," Viina says, and she nudges her head against his chin, then plucks the diary from his hands.


End file.
